I press my palm lightly against my lower stomach.
There’s no cramping. No spotting. Nothing.
Just the soreness in my breasts.
I shake my head.
Stop it.
Bear follows me into the kitchen, tail wagging expectantly.
He has no idea his mistress is going bananas.
I pour cereal into a bowl and stare at it.
Heat creeps up my neck.
This is ridiculous.
But I can’t just sit here imagining all the dramatic outcomes this could mean.
So I hurry to my feet, leaving the cereal bowl behind, determined to settle this now.
I grab my keys.
Bear springs up immediately, nails clicking excitedly on the floor, his tail wagging like a helicopter.
“You want to come?” I ask him.
His entire body wiggles.
“Okay,” I sigh, grabbing his leash from the hook by the door. “You’re coming.”
Fresh air will probably help anyway.
I clip the leash onto his collar and we step outside together. The afternoon sun is warm, the neighborhood quiet. Bear trots ahead like this is the best day of his life.
Meanwhile my brain is doing laps.
Bear stops every ten feet to investigate something important. A leaf. A mailbox. A patch of grass that apparently contains the secrets of the universe.
“Come on,” I mutter, gently tugging the leash. “This is a mission, Bear.”
He looks up at me with his big golden eyes, tongue lolling happily.
Right.
Mission impossible.
The pharmacy is only a short walk away. When we reach it, I tie Bear’s leash to the little metal post outside the entrance.
“Stay,” I tell him, crouching down to scratch behind his ears.
He sits obediently, though his tail still thumps against the sidewalk.
“I’ll be right back,” I promise.
Inside, the bright fluorescent lights feel harsher than usual. I head straight for the family planning aisle, trying to look casual.
